Wednesday, October 10, 2001
The Pok�mon panic of 1997: fits and nausea among children all over Japan. Was it epilepsy caused by flashing lights? Mass hysteria? Or Killer Japanese Seizure Robots!

9:16 PM :

Orange dress shirt and even brighter orange vintage tie. Monochromatic dressing (no, orange pants, I'm afraid) to spice up the day. I know today will be rather tedious, but I'm planning to energize myself later with a dose of double expresso and a trip to the gym. I'm currently on break or intermission as I like to call it, working through the 'Times' crossword puzzle. I'm trying to avoid the 'Faces of Grief' section, and as depressing as it truly may be, I will read through it later. It's mildly aggravating working a sort of stop start schedule. Small bursts of boredom and quiet meshed with lectures/teaching and endorphin spikes. Interestingly enough, I received a mildly obscene phone call, after I rebuked the little filth monger, he politely apologized and thanked me. Odd, perhaps this is a new kind of pervert.

Hopefully we will never find eMedicine handy. Valid reliable information on Chemical, Biological, Radiological and Nuclear Warfare, and Explosives from eMedicine.com. Information is used by the military and is peer reviewed by at least 4 doctors-updated 24 hours a day. Unclear about a term, eMedicine.com provides an interactive pop up definition and hyper links for further research. The media, at times alarmist, bombards us with information, we are flooded with images of friend and foe alike. Schools with brains up their ass-Teen expelled for hanging patriotic symbols in locker. Aaron, a 16-year-old junior at Fairview High School, was suspended for 10 days Thursday because school officials believed that signs on his locker depicting planes bombing Afghanistan were threatening to Arab- American students. A federal judge over turned the suspension yesterday, sending Aaron back to class after a daylong civics lesson. Hey, and while your at it, why not take out every kid that hangs up a pin-up or over uses the term fag.
10:17 AM :

Monday, October 08, 2001
Fametracker, The Farmers Almanac of Celebrity Worth.They both sing power ballads and act a little on the side! They're both annoyingly ubiquitous! And they're both going to hell in a handcart! But who, Gustave asks, is more famous and successful? Battle of the Photogenic Non-White Pop Divas Who Are Losing Their Minds: Mariah Vs. Whitney.

Studied some material I have been putting off, dry subject matter, uninteresting and wordy. In between studying, coffee and the Columbo marathon on television. Would rather 'fuck the pain away' settling for kicking the endorphins into high gear with a 3 mile run. The early evening air is cold, and crisp - I can see my breath. Navy blue 'Champion' athletic shorts filtering the temperature, initially freezing my nuts off, overly warm upper body thanks to the layers; gray sleeveless Army t-shirt, destroyed sweatshirt, hooded gray pullover sweatshirt to top it all off. Breaking in my new 'New Balance' running shoes, I like them again, for awhile they were making some shitty footwear, but they are softening up and taking a good beating. Does 'New Balance' really stand for 'new blood'? Tough long lasting footwear is a requirement, doubling as my all purpose gym, lifting, running shoe, nothing too fancy. Who has the time to carry around two pairs of shoes? Whatever happened to my Chuck Taylor's? Fuck, I loved those. Tons of neighborhood kids out at the park, scrambling for footballs, being tackled and sliding in the cold mud. Droopy drawer skate boarders, spider bikes, and hang around girls. The cold north wind picks up off the Lake. Former roider muscle daddy jogging too, me thinks he is a Fireman, but too into my stride to notice too much, but I can tell you he's shrunk , but then again, I'm going strong, hitting 'that place' that I need to be to meditate, to take my mind off of, and to get tired enough to gain a great nights sleep. I've been so restless lately. Chocolate soy shake is ahead, it isn't as gross as it sounds. Shower, a banana, reading and driving myself nuts with the news. Note to self, stop off at library and get some fiction, new fiction as escape, so tired of Coupland's flashback read of 'Generation X'. Retro items like, Historical Overdosing: To live in a period of time when too much seems to happen. Major symptoms include addiction to newspapers, magazines, and TV news broadcasts.
7:56 PM :

Caught in the grips of a full blown migraine with all the painful niceties that accompany. Fumbling for Motrin and a hypodermic to get my prescribed shot. I look like some sort of deranged junkie needing a fix. Tossing out of bed restless flicking through BBC Breakfast, CNN and news of the war; Operation Enduring Freedom, I feel uncomfortable with the title, in fact it's scary as hell. Not, that I'm against the strikes, or policy at this point, more comfortable with the fact there is now a united coalition but 'Enduring Freedom' sounds like a slogan, as if we need a catch phrase as a rallying point. The whole concept of America on alert is odd, or perhaps it's media overload. The news channels juxtapose information, with commercials, both are selling, but do I have to buy? Hell no. It's easier to tune into the 5 minute BBC news or read the wires. All this talk of vigilance, police states and city wide lock downs- are we really changed forever? Maybe not, history shows how resilient we are when it comes to these sort of things, "The long- term historic momentum of a metropolis, as a collective human creation of ambition and energy, is a force that is far more powerful than the short-term chaos of disaster, however horrific or heartbreaking." Sure, I suppose it could be a bit dangerous to generalize but with technological advances, we are more unified than ever, and I doubt you can stop the momentum.
9:07 AM :

Sunday, October 07, 2001
The day blinds the night and light subtracts the dark, I see the working class waiting for catholic mass, sunday supper, Mom's home made sauce and a giant bowl of pasta. Dad breaks the bread, neighborhood bakery fresh, butter knives and conversation spread above a centerpiece of roses. I don't want to talk about bombs, buildings, heretics and food, but listen to the ghosts drain the coffee pot, crossword puzzles and street corners. Autumn burning glitter cool, bright light floods the city which is now a giant tow away zone. Brilliant shining ending as I wash my face and comb my hair, crawling into the back seat of darkness, yapping dogs and last call.
8:08 PM :